Breeder's Cup 2008

Monmouth Park is only 60 miles south of the city on the Jersey shore, but since I never, ever go to Jersey, Breeder's Cup on Saturday was my first trip to this park. It's a small, gorgeous old track whose staff was absolutely idiotic about how they handled the overpriced seating for a smallish crowd of 41,000 on a miserable day of weather. The track was a sloppy mess, and had to effect the outcome of more than one race. While it was easy to get in and out via car, Monmouth's biggest day on the national stage was marred by a complete lack of regard for the most hardcore group of racing fans there is. 'Nuff said about that.

I always lose cash on Breeder's Cup day, for separating any equine stars out of the field of the best horses in the world is next to impossible. There is always money to be made, with most every entry going off at 4 or 5-1. Not too bad: I was only down $65 for the day, with Tania taking a biggest loss after dropping her newly replenished voucher worth over $100. Ouch. Lamest way to lose money at the races.

The worst note of the day occurred during the Classic, with European star George Washington needing to be euthanized on the stretch after sustaining a visibly gruesome injury that caused an audible gasp from the crowd after Curlin's winning run. Curlin tore through the final two furlongs like the champ he is, unfortunately, most of us were watching George Washington pull up lame in horror.

Still, it was absurd to get the Horse of the Year at a price of 4-1 (!!), and some money was made.

We.

I used the word "WE" in reference to something the man friend and I might do in the future, and my god, you would have thought I gave him a million bucks with the grin I got in return. I am a dope.

This of course did not quell the minor panic attack that using said word caused me. My independence and fear do not go quietly into the night, but I'm tryin'. Really trying.

Playoffs

Does anyone care about these NL baseball playoffs? I even forgot that the Rockies and Diamondbacks were on last night. Go Tribe.

Maybe

One day I'll resume posting again, when I have head space.

The job reconfigurations of recent weeks are still causing anxiety -- not sure if I am going to go freelance starting in mid-Jan and only work on the Visionaire publication + other print projects for other clients (most likely) / get fired / find a new full-time job / quit in a huff during the next two weeks so I can run away to Thailand with my man friend for a couple months (most appealing).

I had a semi-relaxing trip to SF last week for my old roommate Mikey's wedding, Ann and Derek's 10th Anniversary dinner and the baptism of Denise's 8-month old Sonny. Loads of friends around - the vast majority from Ohio - and amazing weather for the 7th Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, where I saw Buddy Miller, Del McCoury, an Atlantic City-covering Jason Isbell, Dave Alvin, Doc Watson, Jim Lauderdale and the ubiquitous Emmylou. The 3-day Festival is a terrific free, yet not too crowded with dirty hippies, event in Golden Gate Park. Going out simply for the music would have been a good trip in itself.

Said man friend came along, and was an unsurprising hit. And I didn't even have to put on my mature and meet his ex-girlfriend, also in town all weekend.